

tretching
from the East River to the Van Wyck Expressway, Altantic Avenue cuts through
dozens of neighborhoods as it connects Brooklyn to Queens. Atlantic Avenue’s
senery can change from a high-end shopping district, a fast food thruway,
or a row auto body garages to flashing neon signs advertising cheap carwashes,
or modest housing built near bodegas, chinese restaurants, gas stations, and
yet more fast food. Even the most ambitious of writing staffs couldn’t
cover all that ground in only a few months. So, Street Level decided to plant
reporters on a stretch of this road where history, culture, and
soaring real estate prices glaringly intersect. Throughout the years, the
two-mile leg of Atlantic Avenue from Brooklyn’s Flatbush out to the
East River has seen economic booms and busts, immigration and exodus, desirability
to skid row to gentrication. It has attracted artisans, antique dealers, upscale
clothing and home furnishing boutiques, all while becoming the commercial
and sentimental home for Brooklyn’s Arab community.
In the 1700s, Atlantic Avenue was just a private road terminating at Ralph
Patchen’s farm on the river; in 1855 it was renamed Atlantic Street
before earning Avenue status in the 1870s. During the American Revolution,
General George Washington retook the land from the British and used it as
a lookout to watch Redcoat movements. Eventually, the British used it as their
evacuation point. The area never attained the tony elegance of Brooklyn Heights,
instead serving as a base for Irish and Scandinavian residents who worked
as shipyard laborers at the Red Hook Navy Yard, followed by Italians from
Southern Italy and Spaniards from Galicia in northern Spain.

A convenient stop on the Fulton Ferry leaving Battery Park during the 1890s,
Atlantic Avenue saw an influx of Arab immigrants leaving the cramped quarters
of Washington Street in search of a better life. As Arab men brought over
their wives and children, the population bloomed. When in 1940, the development
of the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel leveled Manhattan’s Arab community on
Washington Street; Atlantic Avenue solidified as the new Arabic commercial
and residential center. Before long, numerous shops and eateries opened, many
still surviving today, run by the origianl owners’ descendants.
In the 1970s, the area began a period of revitalization. Between 1974 and
1976, 16 new businesses opened. Since then, Atlantic Avenue has seen several
periods of fluctuation. In the 1980s, the oldest subway tunnel in the city,
built in 1844, was rediscovered. Plans were underway to transform it into
a museum, but adequate funds have yet to be raised.
Today, a stroll down Atlantic Avenue delivers a smorgasbord of exotic sights,
smells and sounds. For those in search of culinary adventure, there are many
options; from Brawta’s Caribbean fare to the comfort food served at
the Brooklyn Grill, the neighborhood has recently drawn restauranteurs away
from high-rent Manhattan. Specialty shops, from middle-eastern groceries to
body oil and Islamic book ships continue thrive. Though antique shops once
numbered 300 in the 1960s, the antique district has shrunk to just four blocks.
A tapestry of faiths line Atlantic Avenue within a half-mile stretch. The
aging and dwindling congregation at St. Cyril of Turau Cathedral, a Belarusian
Orthodox church, is an epitome of the migration patterns of the neighborhood,
with only 23 regular members remaining. On the other hand, the Al-Farooq Mosque
serves as a haven for the Islamic community: on average, 1,000 members attend
Friday prayer services. However, the mosquehas been in the media spotlight
of late, due to the current FBI investigation for allegedly funneling funds
to Al-Qaida. Since 9/11, the Arab American Family Support Center has been
aiding members of the Arabic community with legal assistance.
The landscape of Atlantic Avenue is constantly evolving: this issue highlights
some of the people and places of this historic district.

Amy Zimmer
Heather Marie Graham